


Damn the Fairies

by nirame



Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, Prompt Fill, True Love's Kiss, cas-kinkmeme, cursed!Dean, fairy curse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-29
Updated: 2014-04-29
Packaged: 2018-01-21 06:08:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1540463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nirame/pseuds/nirame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Dean gets whammied by an evil fairy goodmother on a hunt and has to experience true love's first kiss before the stroke of midnight or he dies. Obviously that's impossible, so Sam, Dean, and Cas frantically search for an alternative cure as the clock ticks down. But at five minutes to midnight, with no cure in sight, Cas has to face the prospect of losing Dean forever and makes one last ditch effort to save him. </p><p>--in which Castiel's kiss saves Dean and they both have to figure out where the heck that leaves them.</p><p>Bonus points: If Dean uses the curse as an excuse to go out and kiss a whole bunch of women on the off chance they might be the one much to Sam and Castiel's exasperation.</p><p>(http://cas-kinkmeme.livejournal.com/5460.html?thread=20564#t20564)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Damn the Fairies

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, maybe I'm starting to enjoy writing.... and did another thing.  
> But for the ones hoping for my 'usual' 'style' - this isn't it.
> 
> I just wanted to try something completely different and took a chance in filling that prompt for the Cas-Kinkmeme.  
> Anyway - Enjoy!
> 
> (It's not beta'd this time, so I'm sorry for mistakes and odd phrases. You're welcome to correct me)
> 
> !!DISCLAIMER:!!
> 
> I don’t own any of the characters, they are not my intellectual property. There is no financial gain made from this nor will any be sought. This is for entertainment purposes only.   
> The story as itself is my intellectual property, do not copy, cite, or distribute without permission.

It’s 8.42 pm and Dean’s kissing the hell out of the girl pressed between the bar counter and him.  
She’s a pretty little thing, a bit younger than him, dark brunette with pale pink lips which are soft and warm against his own. Her name is Bea and she’s starting to get light wrinkles around her blue eyes when she laughs. He noticed it earlier when he told her a joke, winking coquettishly at the young woman.

Bea is the sixth one he’s tried in not quite 4 hours and Dean can’t help to feel at least a little bit proud of himself despite the critical situation he’s in - this is a personal record after all.  
The problem is that neither Bea, nor Alice, Tiffany, Carol (maybe it was Caroline) or one of the first two whose names he’s forgotten by now did the trick.

‘You’ll feel it, trust me’, the fairy bitch had gloated, flapping her actually glittering wings.  
‘And it should shimmer a little bit’, she had added dreamily, two feet pure evil - if you ask Dean - squeezed into a stereotypical planty dress. Just… what the actual fuck?!

He’ll give it to her, trying to kill a damn fairy godmother of all things doesn’t sound like the nicest thing to do. But there’s just nothing to discuss if said winged lady goes full on wacko after the death of the last of her assigned nobility and puts a whole village to sleep. No kidding, the all-round sleeping beauty fairy tail package with roses and thorns and stuff.

Long story short, they managed to ‘persuade’ her ‘politely’ to wake up the people. Then she vanished in thin air - but of course not before waggling her silly, glowing fairy stick around, the snapped tip dangling at the top, and leaving Dean damned to his imminent death. He really shouldn’t have broken that stupid glowing stick of hers.

‘Not just any kiss, the kiss of true love’, he hears the chubby, little fairy godmother’s voice echoing in his mind and he could swear he’s heard those words somewhere before.

The ‘until midnight or you’ll be dead, you heartless slob!’ was definitely knew though.  
So this was it.

 

It had been half past 11 am and Sam had called Cas immediately in view of the damn short timespan they had to solve this problem.

Short after that the three of them were back at the motel room the brothers had checked in to the morning before.  
Two beds, faded 80s style wallpaper, a tiny fridge, a small, ugly table with two chairs and damp smelling mattresses - nice and cozy, just the way Dean liked them.

‘... so you’re really sure you can’t just - I don’t know, free him from the spell’, Sam asked for the third time. ‘I mean, there must be something.’

Cas sighed distressed as he was about to repeat himself once again when Dean interrupted him by slapping the laptop on the table with way more force than necessary, making Sam jump and cringe worried for the device.

‘You heard him Sam. Research-time it is.’

 

Five hours later Dean was certain he wouldn’t find anything helpful at all.

One would think there should be more than enough serious lore and reports about fairy godmothers on the internet. It was plain frustrating. He could dig disney, at least those were kids movies. But fifty rose colored and fairy dust glittering homepages by forty year old midlife-crisis-ridden housewifes - or thirteen year old teenagers, it’s not that much of a difference - full of cheesy poems and sweet fairy pictures later, he was done.

‘Okay, deal with me, but this’, he said, waving vaguely at the screen in front of him, ‘is total shit.’  
He leaned back in his chair at the small motel dining table and Sam looked up from his irish lore book opposite from him.

Cas, who was now seated on one of the beds, had flown out several times, steadily supplying himself and Sam with new books to go through.  
He kept his gaze trained on the old, dusty pages on his lap when he answered, flipping through them faster than any human could read.

‘What else do you intend to do then, Dean?’

‘Heck, I don’t know.’ … but Dean’s always been good in showing off his gallows humor if things got hairy… ‘Why don’t I just go out and find true love? Yes, let’s give that a try, huhm?’, he suggested sarcastically.

Sam kept his mouth shut, quirking an eyebrow, while Cas abandoned his book to give Dean a stern look.

‘Dean. This is a serious situation!’. He sounded more than a little pissed.

‘Ya, it is. So what?’ Though he was originally joking anyway, Dean was put off by the angel’s statement. He gave both his companions irritated looks when Sam cut in calmly, now both his eyebrows raised.

‘Dean. You and true love is like… let’s just say you could as well try winning a designer contest.’

They stared at one another for a short moment, Sam waiting for his brother to resume his online search and Dean considering how to peply to that.  
Dean decided to act on his mood, stood up and grabbed his jacket while Cas still watched them both from his place on the bedside.

‘Oh come on Dean, we both know...’ Sam started with an annoyed expression, but Dean cut him short, turning around to face him.

‘You know what? Screw this. If I’m gonna die ‘cause of a damn fairy - at least Imma die making out. Period!’

He heard Cas calling after him when he left the room with no further ado, the door closing with a squeak and thud, but luckily none of the two came after him.

 

Five women, four places, eight beers and three shots later there’s Bea. The bar they are in is crowded, what’s good for making an unnoticed exit. But Bea is a really nice girl, so he fakes a phone call, leaves excusing himself politely without making her wonder why that guy first took interest in her and then took off.

He feels like he really wanted her to be it. She was kind and interesting, pretty and somehow she vibed with him. But again, no dice.

There’s only one place left in the small town he could go to. He repeats the same procedure there with three more girls, for the dive was roomy and dark enough to not get caught by the first ones. Make eye contact, buy them a drink, flirt for dear life, kiss them and see if it glimmers. Or if it feels different this time.

But nothing.

It’s 11.15 pm, he’s definitely starting to get more than just a little tipsy, there are no bars left to go and no shimmer, glimmer, odd feelings or whatever in sight. Maybe research would’ve been more successful after all.

All the time he didn’t let himself think of it too hard, concentrating on the goal, but finally it dawned on him that this was quite possibly the last hour he got left. And everything ‘cause of one freaking fairy godmother. What a way to make an exit.

On the walk back the dark streets seem colder and shadier to him than earlier on his way to the first bar.

He always thought he’d go down fighting, not waiting to die silent without any chance to fend it off.  
He HAD gone down fighting several times now, but this time it didn’t seem like he was going to be brought back again.

 

When he gets into the motel room he doesn’t even have to ask if Sam or Cas found anything in the meantime. He is met with long faces, both of them still on the same spots they’ve been when he left, opened books in hand.

‘Please tell me you’ve found your true love’, Sam greets him desperately with little hope in his voice.

‘Let’s just say cupid doesn’t like me anymore’, Dean responds while making his way to the bathroom, ignoring the worried looks Sam and Cas give him.

He shuts the door behind him, closes his eyes and takes one deep breath, gripping the edge of the sink tightly.  
The bathroom’s narrow and old. It reeks and the shower faucet’s dripping steadily, building a monotonous rhythm.

20 minutes to go.

Maybe he should’ve stuck to Bea, make himself a nice leaving present and take off two minutes to midnight.

He wonders absently if the fairy knew just how hard this task’d be.  
Would it work when he kissed Lisa now?  
Or Cassie?

He hears his brother and the angel discussing outside, their voices becoming ever more frantic, but he can’t make out the words. Dean washes his face, lets the chill water ground him and leaves to the main room without looking in the mirror.

 

‘.... don’t know, Sam! This is magic from a different plain of existence’, Cas retorts urgently to something Sam must’ve said. The angel glimpses at him, casting his eyes away again quickly. He looks like he’s got no idea how to behave toward Dean in this situation.

To be fair, Dean doesn’t know either.

They’re both silent now, either having nothing to discuss any further or pausing because of Deans return. He doesn’t let himself be bothered by them, doesn’t want to see the devastated faces, takes a beer out of the fridge and sits down at the headboard of the second bed. He stretches out and crosses his legs on the blanket, boots still on.

Obviously Sam isn’t satisfied with his choice of action. He can hear him shifting on his chair and knows he’s about to speak even before he opens his mouth.

‘So what, we just gonna sit down and wait for it to happen?’, he asks incredulous.

‘Clock’s ticking Sammy. Doesn’t seem to me like there’s a way out this time.’

He knows he’s right when there’s no comment or protest from Cas at all.  
Even an angel can’t think of something, that means a lot in Deans book.

But Sam shakes his head, gives him the stubborn look he knows too well.

‘Won’t happen. If you want to give up, fine. But I won’t.’, he says, turns around and starts rummaging through his pockets. A moment later he’s talking to someone on the phone, asking about fairy knowledge. One minute after that call he’s got the next one on the line, probably calling every hunter he knows in hope of finding something, _anything_.

When Dean looks beside him Cas has his head hung low, his fingers interlaced behind his head with his elbows propped up on his knees. He doesn’t move an inch and Dean tries to remember how many times he’s ever seen him like that, expressing his emotions this bodily.

‘Come on, Harry, you got to know something!’, he hears his brother in the back.

He takes another swig of his beer and looks at the clock on the wall.  
It’s running 5 minutes slow.

‘Hey Cas’, he calls out with played ease, but it doesn’t have any effect, so he adds ‘tik tok’ to it, grinning broadly.

Cas looks up at that, tilting his head upwards to eye him without changing his position. He looks tired and as wound up as Dean thinks he can ever get.

‘This isn’t funny Dean’, he says with no strength behind the words and just keeps staring at him.  
Somehow Dean can’t keep up his facade at that.

He doesn’t know why, but they simply keep looking at each other. Neither of them got something to say.   
Sam’s got the next caller on the phone and Dean watches Cas adjusting himself minutely. It seems like the angel’s getting nervous as the time’s passing, his feet are twitching, and Dean doesn’t have the slightest idea what’s going on inside that head of his.

But the eye contact calms him anyway.

 

It feels like hours have passed when Dean finally stands up from his seat and walks over to Sam, Cas’ gaze following his every step.

‘Times almost up, Sam. Five minutes’, he says flatly while laying a hand on his brothers shoulder to get his attention.  
Sam gives him a pained look and hangs up on his dialogue partner without goodbye.  
His eyes shine a bit and Dean just hopes his giant baby brother won’t start to cry.

‘Dean, I don’t...’

‘It’s ok’, Dean interrupts him, trying to give away as less emotion as possible, ‘had to happen someday.’

It’s not like he wants his life to end.  
He doesn’t want to go and leave his brother alone once again and he wonders what’ll happen. Up or down this time? Will it be Tessa? Maybe he won’t make it the usual way, maybe someone’ll head him off like it happened to Bobby.  
Maybe fairy victims are a special case.

 

Two minutes and something grabs his shoulder from behind in a strong, unyielding grip.  
He’s spun around in a split second and all at once there are warm lips pressed to his in a fierce, closed-lip kiss. And then, before he can even think about Cas closed eyed face blocking his view and what the hell’s happening - it’s glowing. For a few moments there’s a shimmering, glittering, freaking rose colored shine framing the both of them and his body tingles all over.

It’s warm, it’s thrilling, it’s right - it feels perfect.

When it stops Cas breaks away slowly, freeing his lips and taking a step back. He stands barely two feet away from him and just looks, wide eyed.  
His eyes are shifting constantly, like he’s searching Deans face, his spit wet lips slightly parted, but his expression is completely unreadable.

Dean in the meantime forgot how to speak.  
He hears a sharp exhale behind him and notices he forgot about Sam, too.

‘It worked - Dean, it’s after midnight!’, his brother states enthralled.

‘Yeah, I noticed that, thank you’, Dean retorts, taking a short look back at Sam behind him before turning around once again to face Cas.

‘Question is, why?’. The more he thinks about it - as far as it’s possible to think straight right now - the more confused he gets. ‘Cas, just… what?!’

The angel looks back and forth between the brothers for a short moment before answering deadpan as ever, ‘I thought I’d just give it a try.’

‘Give it a try?’, Sam repeats sceptically.

‘Yes. Obviously it worked’, Cas defends himself before adding a silently mumbled ‘I just hoped it didn’t have to be requited’.

He looks defeated and Dean swallows nervously.

The kiss involuntarily replays itself in his mind - his pounding heart, Cas warm lips against his own and the mild taste of them - the sudden, burning need to push his tongue past them and take more. The spicy smell surrounding Cas like he’s been on some arabian market a few hours ago - maybe he was. The heat pooling deep down in his guts that had him on the verge of sending his morals and concerns straight to hell and the sheer rightness of it all.

Perhaps they’d have to discuss the requited part again...


End file.
